Hermione Granger and the Sisters Black
by PersephoneSleeps
Summary: "The future as you know it is gone, Miss Granger. You must give up any hope of returning there." At the end of her third year, an accident sends Hermione back in time. A well-meaning Dumbledore seeks to use Hermione for the greater good. But how will her new relationship with the Black sisters affect the Wizarding world. Better than it sounds, please give it a chance.
1. The Broken Time-turner

**Chapter One: The Broken Time-turner**

There had never been a prettier night. Buckbeak was safe, Sirius was free, Harry had prevented a horrible make-out session, and Crookshanks was not the evil rat-murderer that Ron had insisted. Hermione left the Hospital Wing with Harry the next evening in high spirits. Nothing could ruin her good mood.

"I can't believe Pettigrew escaped."

Except for that.

"There's nothing we can do about it now," consoled Hermione, "Hopefully Dumbledore can convince the Ministry-"

"He can't!" Green eyes flashed angrily as he turned towards her, "Fudge wasn't interested in the truth, he still thinks Sirius is the one who murdered my parents!"

"Keep your voice down," urged Hermione, casting a quick glance to make sure no one else was around. Luckily, the corridor was deserted.

But Harry was still caught up in his own thoughts, "Maybe it's not too late. We can use the time-turner to go back to last night. If we wait in the forest we might have a chance of catching him."

Her hand instinctively went to the time-turner around her neck, as if to shield it from him. "Harry, we can't. We don't know where he ran. Even if we did, he could still evade us as a rat. It's too risky-"

"Then we'll keep going back until we do." His voice was determined. They had reached the Grand staircase, and she had to quicken her pace to keep up with him.

"We can make a map of the area, and mark off different sections," he continued, "each time we go back we can make sure to go to a different section, that way we'll be sure to catch him."

"Harry," Hermione tried, but he ignored her.

"We can make a magical net that catches any living thing that passes through it. I'm sure Hagrid has something-"

"Harry…"

"Then, we can take him straight to Fudge. He'll have to drop all of the charges against Sirius-"

_"Harry!"_

Her shout echoed off of the walls, and they both stopped in the middle of the deserted staircase.

Very slowly, Harry turned around. The anger had ebbed from his gaze, and had been replaced with a hint of desperation- as if he knew exactly what she was about to say.

She licked her lips. "We can't use the time-turner like that," she said softly, "it's too dangerous. We could be seen, we could see ourselves! And there's no research about-"

"That's all you care about, isn't it?" spat Harry, "The research!"

She felt her cheeks grow hot, "You know it isn't!"

"Well, if you won't do it at least let me."

She stared at him incredulously. "You must be joking!" She scoffed finally, "Haven't you listened to anything I just said?"

"Yes, I heard you say that you aren't willing to take a few risks in order to catch the man who killed my parents."

His words stung, and she felt tears well up in her eyes. "Excuse me," she said stiffly, "I think I left something in the Hospital Wing."

She caught a glimpse of his guilty face as she turned and marched back down the stairs.

"Hermione, I'm sorry-"

"Don't bother," she snapped, letting her pride get the better of her. Hermione stopped and turned towards him, "I'll talk to you later, and we can come up with a plan to catch Peter that doesn't involve breaking a thousand laws and possibly driving ourselves insane." And then, with a scowl, she resumed her enraged descent.

For the rest of her life she would wonder what in that moment caused her to trip. Perhaps she had taken a wrong step, or maybe the staircase gave one of it's infamous lurches. Whatever the reason, the next second sent her tumbling down the staircase in a whir of motion.

There was a faint tinkling of broken glass as the time-turner hit the floor, and she heard Harry's worried call of "_Hermione!_"

Then, an unfamiliar voice cried out, and she was barely aware of crashing into something much softer than the marble staircase.

For a moment all Hermione could do was lie there. Her breath came in short, pained gasps. Every muscle screamed in pain, as if she had been trampled by a herd of Hippogriffs. Something warm and sticky was trickling down her face.

It did not occur to her that she might have hurt another person until the thing she was laying on _moved_.

"Don't worry about me," a snide feminine voice said, "I'm perfectly happy to let you sleep on me. Take your time. I wouldn't want to disturb you with my breathing."

Hermione let out a groan as she fought to sit up. "I'm sorry," she gasped, growing lightheaded as pain stabbed at her ribs. It was with great difficulty that she opened her eyes.

The voice belonged to a girl with dark, curly hair and a face that pretty in spite of the scowl that currently adorned it. Hermione was about to remark on the fact that she had never seen the girl before, when her eyes were drawn to a flash of gold on the floor beside them.

At some point in her fall, the glass of the time-turner had broken, and the sand had vanished. Hermione felt as if she had been doused in ice water as she reached to pick up the ruined item.

"H-harry," she stuttered, her mouth felt as if it was full of cotton, "the time-turner… i-it's broken!" McGonagall was going to kill her! She did not know how much time-turners cost, but she was fairly certain that it was expensive.

The girl's voice was less snide and more curious when she asked, "Who are you talking to?"

Hermione's head whipped up, and her eyes went wide with dread as she stared at the empty spot where Harry had stood.

"He was just there!"

"The only people awake right now are you and me. And possibly a few teachers."

Hermione blinked in confusion. _The time-turner must have done something when it was broken,_" she thought. Out loud, she asked, "What time is it?"

"A little after eleven," the girl spoke slowly, the way one might to a small child.

Hermione frowned, and struggled to stand.

"Maybe you shouldn't move," the girl said, and for the first time there was a hint of concern in her voice. "I can run and find Madam Pomfrey-that's our new matron-"

"_New?_" Hermione screeched, not thinking clearly as she struggled to understand what was happening. Her head was throbbing, and she was panting shallowly as she struggled to focus on the girl's wide eyes. "What year is it?"

"Excuse me?"

Hermione struggled to lower her voice, "What- what _year_ is it?"

The girl's brow wrinkled. "1970."

Hermione let out a small, panicked laugh. "Is Professor Dumbledore the Headmaster?"

"Yes," she answered slowly.

Hermione nodded, and clutched the broken time-turner in her hand. "I need to speak to him. Now."

"But shouldn't you go see the nurse first?"

Hermione shook her head, and struggled painfully to her feet. "There's no time."

She was vaguely aware that the girl was following her as she hobbled up the steps, but she could not focus on anything other than finding Dumbledore. He would know what to do.

He had to.

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><p>Author's Note: So there's the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. Please review and let me know what you thought.<p>

**I do not own Harry Potter, anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling. **

A couple of things I want to mention:

I took the liberty of changing the time period that the Black sisters went to school for the purposes of my story. I know that they would have gone to school in the 60's, (or at least, Bellatrix and Andromeda would have) but I have plans that involve the Marauders, so I needed them to be a little bit younger than they are in canon.

Also- this story will eventually contain femslash. If that bothers you please do not read.

Thank you for reading! And again, please review!


	2. Explanations and Friends

**A/N: Please don't forget to follow/review!**

**And thank you for reading =)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Explanations and "Friends"<strong>

Bellatrix Black was often called the brightest witch of her age, and it was for good reason.

As she sat outside of the Headmaster's office her mind whirred with theories about the bushy haired girl who had fallen into her on her way back to her dormitory. She had been mailing a letter for her little sister-Narcissa had forgotten an essay at home, and wanted her parents to send it with the morning post- and had never imagined that a _time-traveller_ would appear where she was standing.

She suddenly realized that admitting to Dumbledore that she had seen the time-turner (and heard the girl say the word) had been reckless. Although the Headmaster was known for being lenient, she knew that there was a good chance he would need to cover this up. Perhaps he would obliviate her, or worse.

_Maybe he'll drop me in the middle of the Forbidden Forest and let the beasts tear me apart_, she thought, letting her imagination get the better of her. Realistically, there was no way he would risk the wrath of her family by killing her.

Still, she hoped that he would not take the memory away. Her life was a boring monotony of school, homework, and etiquette lessons. The mysterious girl with the broken time-turner was the most exciting person she had ever met.

_I have to find out more about her_.

She settled back on the bench, and instantly came up with a list of things that might persuade Dumbledore to keep her memories.

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><p>Hermione could not stop crying.<p>

A much younger Dumbledore than she was used to passed a blue and pink spotted handkerchief to her, and she buried her face in it, unable to stop the sobs as they wracked her body. He had insisted on healing her injuries before allowing her to speak, so she was in no physical pain as she fell apart in front of the Headmaster.

"So, I want to make sure I understand what you've told me," he said gently, his chair giving a little squeak as he shifted, "You woke up this morning in the Spring of 1994."

"Yes."

"And you fell down the stairs, wearing a time-turner, so now you are here."

"Yes."

"The sand from the time-turner has vanished completely?"

She nodded miserably.

"Well, for that you are fortunate."

Hermione glanced up at him in confusion. His face was much graver than usual as he studied her from across the desk. "Why is that?"

"Well, Miss Granger, had the sad-even a single grain- gotten into your system through your blood," he gestured to her forehead, which had been bleeding profusely when she entered the office, "or if you had swallowed it, you would have become infected with it's properties. Essentially, you would have become a permanent time-traveller, never knowing when you might be shifting time periods. The few unfortunate souls who have been afflicted in that way have never survived more than a few weeks before their condition became too much for them to bear…" he trailed off, and a grim smile crossed his features, "I would have hoped that the Ministry would invest in unbreakable glass by 1994, but alas, I am not the one determining their priorities."

Hermione stared at him in horror, unable to think of anything to say.

"Well, unfortunately now we have the dilemma of figuring out what to do with you. You are, of course, welcome to resume your studies at Hogwarts. We have a scholarship program set up for students who find themselves without family-"

"Wait," she interrupted, her voice hoarse from crying, "how are you going to send me back?"

His brow furrowed. "Send you back to where, Miss Granger?"

"To 1994!"

"Ah," his expression softened, "I'm sorry, Miss Granger, that would be impossible."

There was a roaring in her ears as she gaped at him. "Impossible?"

"Yes. There is no technology that allows someone to travel _forward _in time."

"But-but, the time-turners-"

"Are meant for those who want to repeat short periods of time, it was never meant for long-distance time-travelling."

"But I can't stay here," fresh tears were pouring down her cheeks, "I have to go back and help Harry defeat You-Know -Who!"

Dumbledore sat up stiffly just as she realized that she had said too much.

"Miss Granger," he said slowly, "When you say, 'You-Know-Who' are you referring to the one who calls himself 'Lord Voldemort'?"

There was a silence as she debated internally whether to tell him the truth. "My Head of House told me to never reveal something about the future to anyone in the past," she said carefully. "She said that there was a risk of permanently changing the future."

"I'm afraid that the future has already been irrevocably changed."

She shook her head, still unwilling to believe that there was no possibility of her going home.

He let out a long sigh and fiddled with one of the strange silver instruments on his desk. "Miss Granger, Voldemort and his followers have been a plague on Britain for decades. The Ministry is finally starting to come to their senses, I believe that soon they may declare an outright war."

_A war that will last 11 years_, she thought.

"Countless lives are going to be lost," he said, "there are few who understand this."

"I understand," she said, her stomach heaving as she thought of the passages she had read in the history books, "but I can't help you. If anything changes-" she trailed off, and twisted the handkerchief in her hands.

"I realize that it is difficult for you to accept this," he said in a grandfatherly tone, "young people should never be put in a position where so much rests on their shoulders." For a moment his gaze dimmed, as if he were seeing something not really there. The moment passed swiftly, and he was himself again.

"The future as you know it is gone, Miss Granger. You must give up any hope of returning there. You have been given a rare opportunity to improve the past, to perhaps help a cause that could save lives."

She listened numbly, her eyes unblinking as they fixed on his blue ones.

"Can I think about it?"

His eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled, "Of course. This has been an eventful night. We can resume our conversation over breakfast. There are several rooms we have set up for guests, you can sleep in one of them until we come up with a suitable cover story." His smile dimmed somewhat, "Speaking of which…"

Hermione watched dully as he stood and crossed to the door.

"Miss Black, would you come in?"

The girl she had crashed into strode into the room like she was preparing for a duel.

"I'm not letting you take my memories," she declared, plopping into the chair beside Hermione as Dumbledore returned to his seat. "I won't tell anyone she's a time-traveller. It's important for her to have someone her own age who knows the truth, it'll keep her from going mad. Everyone knows people in these circumstances need a confidante, and I can be that confidante-"

Hermione watched her speak without comment. If she had not been so shocked she might have insisted that she could pick her own confidante, and that she would not have chosen a _Slytherin_ of all people to fill that role.

Dumbledore, for his part, watched the girl deliver her speech with what appeared to be great amusement. He waited for her to finish her last sentence before saying happily,

"I think that is an excellent plan, Miss Black. Miss Granger is going to need a friend, and someone who understands the time period from a- er- _younger _perspective." He chuckled merrily, as if he had not recently been discussing the "countless" deaths that were about to occur, and Hermione gave him an incredulous look.

"For the time being I think that it would be best not to mention Miss Granger's presence here at all. We will be discussing her situation at length tomorrow, and until we come to a decision about what we'll tell people can I count on you to say nothing?"

The girl, Miss Black, smiled, "Of course."

"Excellent! Well, that will be all for tonight. Miss Black, if you should come across anyone on your way back to your common room please direct them to me. I will ensure that you do not receive detention. Miss Granger, if you would follow me, I will show you to the room you will be sleeping in tonight."

The girl gave Hermione a grin that was more of a smirk, and then sauntered through the door.

Hermione's jumbled mind was able to form a single thought in that moment.

_I do not like that girl. _


End file.
